White sheets enveloped her throughout the night in a foreign bed to her own, one she had been forced to begin calling her own. The amount of nights she spent here, in shame, shined a bitter light on the reality of her life. Jalen looks up at the ceiling, adorned in gold leaf patterns covering the white paint. Her voice had been stolen from her a long time ago, she was orphaned as a girl and even with a family to take her in, she was alone.

Her pretty face gave her major strides in the political scene of Sil Gunik and had also placed her into the bed of the widowed king. As long as Jalen reminded herself that it would allow her to rise she would continue to go to King Tyvrik when he called for her.

Grace was the one thing she lacked, especially in the morning. But, in Tyvrik’s chamber she must continue to walk with the beauty that he and other men saw in her. “My dear,” the king says as he comes up behind her. He was younger than most of the Kings in The Nohen, the portion of the world which belonged to the mortal Kingdoms. All Kings from The Nohen were young compared to those in Drescosia. Their species allowed for rulers of hundreds of years of age.

Tyvrik’s age made his bed more bearable for Jalen. She had been in worse. His short brown hair is neatly combed and his white collared shirt ironed. He drops his red and gold jacket onto a chair as he walks towards her. “I would never have called you here if I knew you had such a deep wound.” He says and his thumb presses to the bruising surrounding the cut she had received on her last assignment.

As an orphan she had to fight her way to the top, she grew up in Drescosia, a land mass across the sea with hundreds of warring species all on the brink of a war. Even with Jalen’s talent with a sword she would never have survived longer than a couple years. And after all the fighting and running she ended up here, standing naked in the King’s chambers. “I am here to serve you, your highness.” She answers and winces as his thumb drifts over her crude stitching.

The King walks around in front of her, his boyish smile and charisma made Jalen forget that he had a daughter just a few years younger than her. It seemed to her that after his wife had passed he distracted himself with childish games. “I would send you to my personal doctor if I could keep your position silent but we both know it is not possible.”

“I appreciate that your highness.” She murmurs and lowers her head.

The King holds out an envelope to her, it was a plain envelope as all the others he gave her. It was payment for her last assignment and a target for her next. “It is more than usual, dear, but I have increased the pay to match.” Jalen was to take out the self proclaimed enemies of the crown and she followed, it did not affect her image in the castle. She was the King’s whore, most knew. If they did not then they all saw her as a pretty face of the King’s court.

Some of the targets she had been assigned she knew were the King’s nightmares. The Queen was killed three years ago and she was to kill anyone who the King was suspicious of. She lowers her head to the King once more and he picks up her jacket and leaves the room for her to dress herself.

She picks up her blue silk nightgown from the floor and tosses it into the black bag the King had left by the door. Black clothing lay next to it with cloth to cover her face and a cloak with a hood which clasped around her neck. She could only infer by the placement of her clothing that The King wanted the tasks completed tonight, at least she assumed with the urgency inferred by her uniform that the King left.

She opens the envelope and reads eight names scribbled on the paper, one was one of Tyvrik’s advisors. He would not be a problem, he had always fancied Jalen and no one thought her deadly in his court. She was merely there as a pretty face. As she had been ever since she left Drescosia at twelve years old.